


Time heals all wounds

by KitKat194



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Angst, Dad!Tony, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, My First AO3 Post, My First Work in This Fandom, Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Precious Peter Parker, Sad, Sad Peter, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 13:18:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16954788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitKat194/pseuds/KitKat194
Summary: Peter's life changed within a second from that phone call from the nurse, but he was too late. He hadn't been quick enough to be there for May... but thankfully Tony could for Peter.





	Time heals all wounds

His small figure laid folded over Mays’ motionless body, shaking lightly and whispering something only for her ears. Otherwise, the room was silent.

 Tony’s heart ached seeing Peter like this…so… _young_. Tony thought back to the time Peter insisted to be treated like an adult, he’d been through more than most people had at such an early age to warrant it, but he wasn’t an adult… and right now he was a child grieving the death of his only remaining family. Tony knew that Peter had been in this shitty cold medical room for more than two hours _at least_ because Tony was in the compound when they called. The call came an hour after she died, and Tony hurried as fast as he could to get to the hospital located in Queens. Tony got there and outside the room, the coroners were already waiting like vultures to take her body away, and he couldn’t buy Peter any more time than he already had by calling and using the “Tony Stark-card”. Tony knew that Peter would never want to leave, but he figured that it had to happen eventually, so he walked in… glancing behind him. The coroners were impatiently looking through the window of the now shut door, observing like they could burst in at any second, no regards to the kid who just lost his family.

Tony hesitantly walked towards him, never knowing what to say in the face of grief and loss.

 

 “Peter…” he whispered and heard him whimper but stay draped over Mays’ lifeless body nonetheless, head resting heavy on her still chest. Slowly moving closer towards him, he gently placed a hand on the shoulder closest to him and lightly squeezed, making his presence more acknowledged.

 

“ _No_ ”, he whined, trying to shake Tony’s hand off him, like the touch was a heavy stone burdening his body, making the situation more real like maybe it was just a bad dream. Peter felt cold to the touch and Tony could feel the shivering take over his small body. The silence was deafening, normally filled with Peters’ endless blabbering. He wondered just _how_ long Peter had sat there by himself, sobbing and trying to calm himself with nobody to comfort him. Suddenly, he felt sick to his stomach.  

 

If Tony could, he’d let him stay for as long as he needed but he also knew that Peter would be forced to leave eventually, and he figured it would be better if it was Tony than the guards or coroners.

 

“Come on, kid, we got to go”, he grabbed his shoulder a little harder this time, but Peter swatted his hand away. With the movement, Tony saw that Peter’s left hand was holding May’s cold, white hand tightly. Tony didn’t think that he could feel worse than he already did… but seeing the kid desperately clinging onto his dead aunts’ hand, he understood that he was sorely mistaken. _Come on Tony, just rip the band-aid off._  

 

He lifted Peter underneath his armpits raising his slumped frame up from the seemingly uncomfortable chair and away from her body.

 

 Peter instantly reacted, “Let go of me!”, he shouted. Angered by the disturbance and trying, but failing, to get out of Tony’s hold and desperately reaching for Mays' hand again like it was the only thing keeping him from drowning. If Peter wasn’t as exhausted as he both was (and looked), he would be out of Tony’s grasp in no time. But he wasn’t strong enough to push himself out of Tony’s solid grasp, so Tony only held Peter closer.

 

His back against Tony’s chest and strong arms wrapped around Peter’s, he could feel the teens desperate attempts to catch his breath. Tony hung his head down ( _for some_ _reason_   _he didn’t want to see them take May’s body, May deserved more respect, and maybe, Tony had a hard time accepting her death too_ ) coming to rest on Peter’s shoulder as the coroners came in, draping a white sheet over her body. Tears were welling up in Peters' eyes and he was quietly whimpering, but he seemed conflicted between trying to stay angry at Tony and now the coroners or letting himself become overthrown with sadness. So when they moved the cover over her face, Peter started thrashing against Tony once more.

 

“No, don’t touch her!” he shouted, his chest rising and falling quickly, as he tried reaching for her again, but to no avail. Tony reached for Peters outstretched arm and folded it in towards Peters body.

 

“please… _please_!” he sobbed, making loud convulsive gasps as he folded in on himself.  

 

Tony had fought and hurt a lot of people in his life, but he never felt more like an asshole than he did holding Peters sobbing body up as they finished covering May’s pale and bruised face. When all that was left was the outline of her body Peter’s legs gave out and he slumped towards the floor. Tony went down with him, hugging him as tightly as before. The coroners started moving behind them. Peter tried looking to see where they were taking her, but Tony turned his face in towards him with a firm hand. No, kid, you don’t _want to see this_. Peter’s face tucked into Tony’s neck, sobbing and trying but failing to catch his breath. He was having a panic attack- Tony knew the symptoms after all, after he came back from…from…   _get your shit together, it was a long time ago you can say it..._ from that dark, torturous **place** , he had had many panic attacks, often dealing with them alone.   

 

“Pete. buddy, you gotta breath! Listen to my breathing.” Tony whispered in his ear and tangled his hand in the boy’s curl, unsure if Peter was even listening.

 

 “Kiddo, I need you to breathe, okay?”.

  

Against his neck, he could feel Peter nodding. Desperately trying to be good for Tony, he tried taking a breath ( _even when his aunt just died and he’s having a panic attack he_ _s_ _till wants to please me…)_  although the air wasn’t reaching his lungs. He lifted Peters head away from his neck, both hands on his face and examined it. He looked like he was five years old, tears falling from his red-rimmed exhausted eyes and a panicked grimace painting his features. Tony slowly rubbed his thumb over Peters' cheek, wiping away tears that had fallen.

 

“Peter, breath with me.” He said trying to keep himself calm as well, taking long exaggerated breaths for him to mimic.

 

 Peter blinked quickly trying to follow, tears falling hastily down his cheeks now as he took convulsing breaths. After a few times, it started evening out, and Peter was no longer grasping for air only quietly crying and looking at Tony like he could fix it, **_pleading for him_** to fix it…

 

“I was _too late_ , Tony, _please_ … what do I do? Tell me what to do!” he begged. 

 

 Tony _hated_ it because sure, Tony was a lot of things, but being able to resurrect loved ones was not one. So instead Tony pulled his face and body into him again. Peter’s body went limp in his arms, but Tony only held him closer and eventually his breathing shallowed and he realized that Peter had fallen asleep tucked into his chest. He knew that Peter wasn’t going to be okay for a long time, but he would make sure that he had love and care (despite that he didn’t always know how to give it, he would try… for Peter **_and_** May). And even though Tony hated clichés, they held some truth…

 

Time heals all wounds.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey you guys, this is just a first draft... however I REALLY need advice if this short fic is good, or if there's anything that I should change...(?)  
> (This is my first story and I really appreciate any advice I can get! <3)  
> Thanks for reading, please leave a comment :D


End file.
